The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1887-09-22


the moment she has forgotten her environ
ment, and she murmurs her vain protest
against the-to us-unknown culprit whose
duplicity, however exercised, has plunged
her into an abyss of shame. Then she
stammers an apology, accepts mechanically
at Mr.. Huntley's hands the shabby bag
into which he has gathered, by her per-
mission, the dishonored treasures, and re-
tires. Iquestion if in all Renford there Is
heavier heart; and / wonder, with eager
palpitating interest, who is "Jack," and
what is the precise nature Of the nefarious
trick ne has perpetrated.
Mr. Huntley can explain litrie-only that
Miss Raine and her father (vho is said to
be an ARTIST are the new people at Bristol
Cottage.
The second of these pictures, imprinted
so indelibly on the retina of my mind, is
widely different in motif and in detail. The
place is an ambulance tent, pitched, literally
enough, as some of US think, in the wilder
ness. The Egyptian troubles that began
with the riots and rebellion at Alexandra
have eliminated in the Soudan war. Cor
don-bravest of the brave-has reached
Khartoum El Teb has been fought, and
and our troops are on their way back from
Tokar to Trinkitat l am with them in the
capacity Of army surgeon, and there are
times when satirise bitterly the longing
for adventure and idle dreams of distinction
to which l am indebted for the appointment
l hold. But self reproacheS are useless.
The tent is tenanted by four men, three Of
whom have been wounded in surprise
skirmish-a mere outpost affair; the other
is the victim of a camp accident. The most
serious case is that Of a private called
Eastleigh. He has been badly dealt with
by dying Arab spearman, has lost much
blood, and himself believes that his last
hour is near. have done for him what is
possible, have attended to the needs Of his
companions in misfortune, and have lin
gered by Eastleighs side to test yet again
the security and suficiency of his bandages>
What it is in the poor fellows face that
strikes me with sense of familiarity, or
at least of previous acquaintance. can not
guess. But even In these dubious half
lights, am persuaded that some reminis-
cence should answer to the Impression
thus created. Only-it fails to do so.
Doctor" Eastleigh family means.
''Well, my ladl' respond.
''Tell me plainly. Have / a chancem
81 decidedly hope so," reply, evasively.
Sand hope isn't expectation" he says,
with curious smile.
am silent. dare not equivocate in such
case as this; and l recognize, too. that,
though but private soldier, Eastleigh is q
man of education, and quick to seize the
meaning of accents as well as Of words.
81 take it, you and L form the same opln-
ion, DOCTOR" he says, between two terrible
paroxysms of pain: "and the world won't
lose much if I do go; but-but-I wish
you'd do me favor. l can depend on you p
"Any thing that is in my power, East
leigh"
''Pve father living in England, and he
and / quarreled. was to blame. was a
sad scapegrace. But he thinks to this day
1 robbed him. 1 didn't; it was my cousin
Dick. Find him, and tell him that. The
address,
But the exertion is too much; the patient
relapses into Inconsistencies, and is re-
stored with difficulty. I forbid further
talk.
81 quite understand what 1t is that you
wish of me, and will do as you request"
1 say. "The address, shall find, if l re-
quire it, with your kit. hope it will be
unnecessary for me to search, and that
you'll live to explain to your father face to
face. Now, silence! Dickson will watch,
and send for me if wanted" And 60 out
into the darkness of the plain and muse
over a solitary cigar until joined by a couple
of regimental comrades. 1 can not forget
the face of the wounded soldier.
In describing the third of these mental
pictures, l must explain that am now no
holt oix-ig nd holf
Military stations and barrack hospitals
know me no more. A slender Inheritance
has come to me from dear old maiden
aunt, the cheer of whose gentle encourage
ments would to this day rather have had
than her money, and with it have bought
a partnership with an ancient college friend
of my fathers. DR.. Hildreth has treated
me generously, for the sake of auld lang
syne; he and his wife-they have no chill
dren-are delightful people and Great
Gamble is a quaint, healthy, well-behaved
East Anglian town, with many another hui
morous incongruity about it beside that of
its name. Existence here is hum-drum-
granted. But / am content-more than
content, since have been honored with
the friendship of Mrs. Bristowe. Margaret
she is Mrs. Hildreth's kinswoman, many
L
the name-is widow, and had heard her
sad and romantic story before l met her
Her husband bore that title scarce an hour;
he fell in fit at the brides feet as he was
leaving the church door, and was dead
man before succor could arrive. The med
ical evidence showed that he was the vic
tim Of heart disease, to which the excite
ment Of the day and the hour had admins
4o, g, Fofn nl c. -, all
would abundantly account for the gravity
which seems a marked feature Of Mrs.
Bristowe's character. Not that she Is
gloomy; her age forbids that, for she is
young still-not five-and-twenty, Mrs. Hill
dreth says-and youth has a recuperative
power which will struggle back to sun
shine, however crushed by sorrow. Yet
there is a seriousness in her mirth. At
stately beauty.
The current of an emotion which 1 recog-
niZe as love hurries me on. Will Mrs
Bristowe consent to be my wifel propose
TO put the question to the test this very
evening. 1t may be l shall end the present
narrative with Margaret's reply.
Now for my third reverie picture. The
scene Is n etropolitan railway station
The place is uhronged with very various
sorts and conditions of men, for detach-
ments of the brave fellows who marched to
relieve Gordon-and alas! marched in vain
are arriving, and the London crowd is
there to welcome them. 1 am ten minutes
early for the train l wish 10 catch, and the
departure platform seems almost deserted,
by comparison with the stir and hustle
elsewhere. 1 stand idly by, and watch a
l.
opposite side of the narrow cutting. Those
round me set up cheer, in which hesi-
tate to join; for do not belong to those
who are the subjects of the ovation. Their
dangers and privations / have shared. l
am not quite alone in nv silence There 10